on pubs, the garden of fiction, and nagging

You don't have to drink Guinness to celebrate, but it certainly does make the atmosphere festive, no? I spoke with the manager at Trinity Hall and admitted to him that, hey, I kind of scheduled a book launch party and announced it on the internet inviting everyone before asking you if that's okay.  Is that okay?

I suppose this is just one example of my impulsive inclinations, but it actually all turned out!  The manager is exactly the way you would imagine a manager of an Irish pub: I-want-to-be-that-cool cool. He said he'd print some custom vouchers for me to hand out to those attendees of the B&N reading on October 21st--little "free drink" vouchers with the image of my book on it.  Great "pub"-licity idea, huh, writers?   I will be paying for all those free drinks, and happily so in the midst of your excellent company.  So, my friends, I'll be passing these charming cards out to the first 20 or so people at the reading who are planning on going to the party across the street at Trinity Hall afterward.  For the under-21 crowd, I'm waiting for info on the age limit and possibility for soft-drink vouchers.  More info soon.

I mentioned in the previous blog that I was reading 4 books at one time, hence the appropriately placed image:

I just wanted to quickly comment here that I'm on reading overload.  I'm delighted that there are so many kinds of literature that speak to me--that I have at my disposal such a wide range of talent and stories of human experience. Such a garden of fiction.  Do you all realize how lucky we are in this time and place to have such quick and easy access to all these books?  I was watching Candide tonight (for the sixth or seventh time)--the one with Kristin Chenoweth, and if you haven't seen it, man are you missing one of the world's great delights.  I was suddenly moved by the fact that I can watch this recording, read a little T.C. Boyle, Kingsolver, Winn Scotch, and browse a few pages of The Far Side collection before I flip off my night lamp.  What magnificent luxuries at my fingertips.  I'm grateful.

Lastly, my post title promises something on nagging.  This wouldn't be an honest post if I didn't admit that I've become a nag.  I'm nag nag nagging my publisher for my advanced reader copies, and she's probably getting sick of me.  I've become this:

I'm darn near contacting her daily (actually, yes, every day), asking her if she's got word from the printer.  My publicist is on indefinite hold.  You may need to know this if you find yourself with a small publisher (I can't speak for the bigger ones): it's hard to be patient, especially when you've got plans, baby. God bless her for dealing with her newest nag, and Godspeed to the printer!